The Rebellion
by UniversalWhippingBoy
Summary: ((AlternateUniverse)) Set in Highschool... WhippingBoyMalcolm, BleedingHeartArcher and ComputerNerdTrip team up to teach a bunch of bullies that the little guy just got bigger... GraphicViolence,AU
1. Part One

The Rebellion  
  
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There had been seven instances now. Before this, before school, there was only three. But now that school has started up again there seems to be easier access to him.  
  
I saw him once or twice stumbling down through the hallway of the school while I was sitting in Biology Class learning the joys of DNA and RNA.  
  
This time, as all the others, I could barely see his face over the top of the door bar so I pretend to drop my pencil so I could see him from under the bar.  
  
He was all messed up. His nose was disjointed and his eye was getting ready to swell closed. A streak of red was smeared unceremoniously down the side of his face -the side I could see- and the front of his white shirt was splattered. His knuckles looked only a little bit bruised so he obviously didn't get much of his own hits in. He swaggered in his step and stumbled to the floor, trying to catch his breath.  
  
I could hear selective gasps coming from outside of the room and, more selectively, little chuckles of laughter, as they spotted him. He coughed and stood shakily to his feet as my hand shot up.  
  
"I need to go to my dentist appointment, Mrs. Dennison," I drawled. She waved me off and I tripped grabbing my bookbag as I headed out the door to his aide-- echoes of my classmates snickers following in my shadow.  
  
"Man," I said, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him to his feet, "Are you alright? They got ya bad this time, didn't they?"  
  
The boy nodded, sprits of blood splatting onto my own white t-shirt. When he put his head down in shame, I cursed the school's regulation white uniform t-shirt.  
  
"Hey, it's okay Malcolm, kid," I smiled reassuringly and hefted my arm around his back. He put his arm over my shoulders almost mechanically and we walked down the hall as he leaned on me for support.  
  
It was de-ja-vu. This had all happened before, several several times, and the only thing that ever changed was the class that I decided to skip out on to help him and the phony excuse I made-up on the spot.  
  
Not that I'm complaining. This boy, he had courage. Real courage. But at the same time, he had more fear in him than any person I had ever known in all of my nineteen years of life. And he was only thirteen.  
  
We took a left towards the exit.  
  
We were going to my house. If we had gone to the nurse then Malcolm's father would have found out and he would be punished. It sounds strange to any normal person, but his family wasn't all that normal. A military family, the father... the grandfather... and his father before him... were all a line of strong, tall military men that served in the Navy.  
  
The boy that stumbled along next to me, seemingly bleeding out of every oraphace visable, was supposed to be one of those men. But how can this scrawny, little kid who watches the world from barely five feet off the ground be much of a defense from three boys on the wrestling team that reach six feet in height?  
  
So we were going to my house.  
  
My father was out, working on his starship project, so we would be alone.  
  
"Who was it this time?" I asked.  
  
The boy coughed, "D-Drake." He coughed again.  
  
"Yeh, alright," I nodded. Antony Drake was the likely suspect. He was the one who was behind everything, I know it, as the others call him boss. Drake is the type of kid that would end up in jail before the age of 20. I say 'would' because he was the richest kid in the entire town.  
  
"What's up with that?" I wondered, noticing the light to the kitchen on. Father wasn't supposed to be home.  
  
So we entered anyways and came face to face with Joden, my younger brother. A devilish smile crossed his face.  
  
"Joden,"I said quietly, "Joden, what are you doing with Father's gun?"  
  
He aimed it at Malcolm.  
  
My eyes went wide.  
  
Joden giggled as he pulled the trigger. 


	2. Part Two

(super magic reversion to not first person!)  
  
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The Rebellion  
  
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The noise of the bang was heard, but Malcolm stayed standing. Joden stayed giggling. Jon nearly had a heart-attack and then thanked Heavan that father had remembered to leave blanks in the gun rather than bullets when he left.  
  
Jon snatched the gun away from my younger brother and put it into the cabnit under lock and key-- where it was supposed to be.  
  
"Joden," he snapped viciously, "When Father hears of what you did, taking his gun like that, he is going to be very upset with you."  
  
"Nooo," Joden sang. "Not, not, not!"  
  
"Yes," Jon said. He slapped Joden on the hand as he reached towards the cabnit. "Aren't you supposed   
  
to be at school anyways?"  
  
"No school!" He flung his hands into the air and ran away to his room giggling as he went.  
  
"Malcolm," Jon said, speaking slowly as he grabbed the younger boy by the arm. "Are you alright?" Malcolm looked pale, frightened. "It wasn't loaded, it's okay."  
  
"It's not that," Malcolm said quietly.  
  
Jon was confused for a second, but decided not to pry--   
  
{he'd tell me on his own time. The last thing I need to do was force him into anything after everything that had happened today.}  
  
Speaking of which.  
  
"Come on then," Jon said. Not bothering to kick off their shoes, he led Malcolm by the hand to the bathroom where he made the younger boy sit on the toilet seat while Jon cleaned him up. "I don't have to be back at the school," Jon said quietly, knowing that Malcolm had an off-period. "You could stay here tonight if you'd like?"  
  
Malcolm nodded, wincing only slightly as the disinfectant was applied.  
  
"You'll be fine, then."  
  
He sighed. "Will I? Really?"  
  
"Yes, of course."  
  
"...For how long?"  
  
Jon couldn't answer that. He didn't know the next time that he would run into Drake or one of Drake's boys. It was only a matter of time.  
  
"Malcolm," he said quietly, "Don't worry. I'll figure something out." He nodded sullenly. "Otherwise---" he grinned as he looked at the clock "---It's just about 2:30. Let's grab a snack and then we can watch tv. Andromeda is coming on in a few minutes."  
  
His eyes lit up as Jon knew they would. If nothing much else, they had Hercules in common. Jon loved the prospect of living in a time of Ancient Mythology, while Malcolm loved the prospect of being as strong as ten men.  
  
Jon didn't blame him.  
  
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"Let me go!" Malcolm screamed, running in thin air. Drake held him by the arms and slammed him into the row of lockers - holding him there.  
  
"Whassa matter, little guy?" Drake cooed, "I thought we were having fun!"  
  
"Fun?!" Malcolm sputtered, "This is not fun! Fun is sitting at home watching tv and... and... This is not fun!"  
  
Drake paused. An evil glint came into his eyes. "You're right. This isn't fun." He made to put the frightened boy back onto his feet.  
  
Seeing his chance to run, Malcolm turned and tried to bolt but was cut off by the arm of one of Drake's henchmen.  
  
"But I know what is fun!"  
  
They carried Malcolm upside-down into the bathroom.  
  
When his head resurfaced dripping wet, streams of water crying down onto the rim of the toilet-seat, Malcolm coughed and gasped for air. They had held him under too long and a blurry splurge of blood ran from his nose over his eyes and streaked down his forhead into his hair.  
  
"One more run should do it!" came the far-away voice of Drake. "Longer this time, get this over with!"  
  
"No!" Malcolm screamed, "Let me go! Noo!" His mouth filled with water and, as his vision turned red, something started to shake him.  
  
"Malcolm!" came a voice from far away, "Malcolm!"  
  
"J-Jon?" Malcolm's eyes snapped open to the frightened sweat-ridden face of Jonathan Archer."Wha-What...?"  
  
"You were screaming in your sleep," Jon replied, pushing Malcolm's sweaty hair out of his eyes. "Are you alright."  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"...You wanna talk about it?" Jon asked, passing the younger boy a glass half-full of water.  
  
Malcolm shook his head slowly to the question and took a drink of the water.  
  
Jon sighed as he accepted the glass back. "As corny as it sounds, I'm here for you, Mal. Always, always."  
  
Malcolm suddenly found his hands very interesting as Jon set the glass on the dresser. "It's a funny thing Jon," Malcolm said quietly, "When Joden turned that gun on me... Instead of being afraid, I... I was relieved..." He pressed his hands to his forhead as silent tears streamed down from his eyes.  
  
The thud of the glass hitting the carpet went unnoticed as Jon turned and enveloped the other into a hug, "It's alright, Malcolm," he said quietly, feeling his own eyes well-up, "Everything will be alright..." 


End file.
